The Patience of a Dead Man by Michael Clark

Author:Michael Clark
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: Horror
Publisher: Michael Clark Books
Published: 2019-07-31T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Lots to Talk About

Monday, April 26th, 1971

The alarm went off at 6:45 am, and as always, Tim had to concentrate for a moment to remember where he was. His sleep had been deep and worry-free—no need to protect anybody (including himself) from nighttime stalkers. He did feel something in his first twinge of consciousness that he hadn’t felt in a long time: joy. It was akin to a child waking up on Christmas morning and realizing today was the day. Even though it was a weekday and he had to go to work in a haunted house all alone, he didn’t feel alone—in general, anyway. All was right in the world because he had found someone to share his days with, whether they were physically together or not. But still, he wished for more.

“Ohhh… I need a weekend or something.”

“Unfortunately, that was yesterday,” she replied.

“Life is cruel. What are you doing today?”

“Working, of course. I’ve got a pretty tight schedule too, for a Monday anyway.”

“Ahhh, damn. Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it’s off to work we go. What are you doing tonight?”

“You.”

It took a second for it to sink in. Holly said she was doing you. Already Tim couldn’t wait for 5 pm.

“You’re dirty. I’m a gentleman, and I don’t talk like that, but let me do the cooking tonight. I’ll prepare one of my two specialties. By the way, do you have a grill?”

Holly smirked. “I’m sorry if I offended you, but don’t worry, I’ll clean up my language. Yes, I do have a grill, but it’s a charcoal grill, so no propane. It was my ex’s…and it sits in the garage as he left it, several years ago. What’s your specialty, hamburgers? Please, tell me that both of your specialties do not require a grill because we might starve to death in the winter.”

He played offended. “No, they do not both require a grill. You’ll eat fine in the winter, don’t worry, I only wanted to grill my special side dish for you, unless you hate grilled marinated asparagus. By the way, I know my way around a kitchen. I worked in a restaurant while in high school, and I like to eat. I can cook just about anything, Smarty-pants, but I have two specialties, and I don’t use that word lightly.”

Good answer, she thought. Tim grills his side dish. “Please let the chef know I didn’t mean to offend him and carry on.”

Tim jumped in his truck after kissing her goodbye, knowing full well that they hadn’t even cracked the second journal. I’m just too fucking busy, and it’s going to have to wait. I’m not a teenager in a horror movie with two choices: leave the summer camp, or die—I’m a busy adult with kids, an ex-wife, and a new girlfriend…and they all require my time. On top of that, I have to take care of myself, and that means fixing the damn house. Hell, the eighteen-hour days aren’t even happening, and I’m up to my eyeballs. I’ll get to your cryptic mystery soon.

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